What Hath Norwulf Wrought?
by Aefnung
Summary: After a series of incriminating (some claim merely coincidental) circumstances, the Dark Brotherhood and the Companions declare war on each other.
1. Prologue

"Is anything else . . . required?"

The voice was cold, cutting the air between the two men like a warm knife through butter. Krev set down his quill and folded his hands. He studied their newest applicant darkly, not liking the insidious emphasis the man had put on _required_.

"Perhaps. We do not accept every wanderer that comes in from the cold, you know."

The applicant stared unblinkingly at him. He was a stereotypical Nord, with shoulder-length fair hair and strong frame. No one would ever spare him a second glance in a crowd. His only distinguishing feature was the way his mouth seemed to uncontrollably twist into a smile every few minutes, like he was a child playing with toys. Krev also disliked the man's attitude, the way he'd come sauntering in, for all the world acting like he ran the organization. And now he just stood smirking at Krev, like protocol was for lesser mortals.

"You'll have to give us a full background, and be evaluated running through various-"

"I hear," the Nord cut in loudly, "that your organization has extensive knowledge on the . . .ah. . . more abnormal, for lack of a better term,_ men_ of this world. Is that true?"

"Yes." Krev replied after pause, more than a little irritated. He had now decided that under no circumstances would he ever accept this man. "That's what _my_ organization does." He hoped this man would take a hint, and then a hike.

The Nord's mouth twisted into a smile again. Slowly he lifted a dark bloody mass from his satchel and threw it. The thing landed on his desk, and Krev grimaced as drops of blood splattered him. He wiped the largest glob of blood from his shoulder and then leaned forward to examine the thing. Krev raised his eyebrows and slight surprise. It was unmistakably a head. A were-wolf's head.

"Is anything else . . . required?"

Krev raised his eyes and studied the grinning Nord for a long moment. Then he made up his mind.

"Welcome to the Silver Hand."


	2. Out of the Cold

**A/N Greetings, and welcome to the story proper. The story does take place after most of the main quest lines, so SPOILERS for that. And possibly Dawnguard, later on. But anyway, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Skyrim or its characters.**

* * *

Out of the Cold

For bloodsucking creatures of the night, vampires were remarkably trusting of their own kind. Or perhaps they were just as disarmed by children as humans were.

Nazir, Dark Brotherhood assassin extraordinaire, paced relentlessly in the enormous ice cavern that had, until quite recently, been the home of a master vampire. These days the Redguard handled most of the day-to-day duties of the Brotherhood, and at the moment that meant running errands the esteemed Listener didn't want to bother with. Even if this particular errand concerned something very close to his heart.

A shadow flitted in the corner of his eye. Nazir swung his head quickly to his left, but saw nothing there at all. He frowned.

"This. Is. BORING."

Nazir gritted his teeth. While she certainly had her uses, he sometimes wondered why, of the three assassins to survive the Sanctuary's destruction, one of them just had to have been the vampire of eternal childhood. Slowly he turned.

Babette was lounging in the vampire master's throne, which was on a balcony several feet above Nazir. She was idly picking at her fangs. Despite all of his years with her, and the fact that she had taken down the feral vampires almost singlehandedly, Nazir still had trouble thinking of her as anything more than a child.

"That's what these things are," he said drily. Babette didn't respond to him directly. Instead, she spat a glob of something red over the balcony. It sailed through the air and landed directly on his left boot. As he scraped it off Nazir hoped, for Babette's sake, that this thing wouldn't turn out to be a waste of time.

* * *

The stars seemed colder, almost as if they were more distant than usual. As the taller of the two travelers gazed up at the little pinpricks of light, he was not comforted in the slightest. The wind picked up and he shivered, pulling his travelling cloak tighter around him. His Companion, several feet ahead of him, had turned and was gesturing towards the broken down stub of tower that lay a little ways ahead. It looked like it was sinking into the snow. His Companion seemed to be trying to tell him something, but he couldn't make it out over the whistling wind. Eventually she gave up and slipped inside. He stood for alone for a moment, stealing one last wistful look at the stars before trudging in the footsteps of his Companion.

Afelle, Harbinger of the Companions of Jorvaskrr, surveyed the tower's entrance area curiously. It was rather small, and narrowed even further into a passage that bent sharply to the right. His Companion, Ria, was already at the far end, peering around the corner suspiciously. He silently joined her.

"No one to greet us," Ria said, acknowledging his presence with a slight nod. "That's odd, don't you think?"

"Maybe they thought we'd be late," Afelle replied, though there wasn't much conviction in his voice. Ria must've sensed it, because she was turning as if to head back.

"Let's not waste anymore time, " she said abruptly.

Afelle smiled in a patronizing sort of way. "Ria, I thought you wanted to go on adventures."

"Yeah, well I've got a bad feeling about this," she said, turning and striding back the way they'd come. "Besides," Ria threw over her shoulder, "What kind of _sane_ employer would want to meet in a place called 'Bloodlet Throne'?"

Afelle smiled to himself. The name did strike him as strange, but no stranger than the rest of the cryptic message they'd received a few weeks past, insisting on an urgent meeting with the Harbinger of the Companions. There had been a rather heated debate amongst the Circle about the validity of the message but, in the end, he convinced them it was worth a look.

Afelle was suddenly thrust back into the situation by the sound of two bodies slamming into each other, and two cries of shock. Taken off guard for a moment, Afelle quickly gathered his wits and leapt around the corner and back to the entrance hall.

Ria was not alone. A man in a black robe was standing in front of the door, and by his defensive position it looked like Ria had walked right into him. Afelle suddenly had the insane urge to laugh at the two. Both had the expression of a beached horker. The sight became much less humorous when the stranger lunged at Ria, snapping his teeth like a dog.

Afelle ripped his dagger free from its sheath as the two hit the floor, still grappling. Ria had her sword, but it was pinned to her side, and while the stranger was unarmed he was recklessly biting at Ria. Afelle hesitated, and in that instant the strangers' teeth sank into Ria's shoulder. She screamed, and Afelle was galvanized into action. As reckless as his enemy before him, the Harbinger hurled himself on top of the stranger, plunging his dagger into the man's back. Ria kicked herself free and in the next instant she had plunged her sword hilt-deep in the man's chest. The stranger convulsed in agony, his fingers futilely trying to pull the blade free. Afelle helped Ria to her feet as the man's struggles slowly ceased. And then he was dead.

"Well, I'd say this pretty much rules out the 'friends' possibility. If we hurry we can make it to Riverwood in time for breakfast," Ria said, wiping her blade clean on the stranger's black robes.

Afelle studied the man's sightless eyes, not answering immediately. The dead orbs didn't look quite right. They were an odd color. And the agility with which the stranger had moved had been nothing short of blinding. And there was something else that was bothering the Dragonborn, but he couldn't place it.

"Harbinger?"

Afelle's eyes snapped up to Ria's. She looked perplexed, perhaps a little defiant.

"I think it's a test," he said shortly. Moving quickly he sheathed his dagger, unlimbered his bow, and turned back down the dark passage.

"What are you doing? How is it a test?"

"You are under no obligation to follow me, Companion. Return if you wish," he called over his shoulder. He heard her exasperated sighs, indecisive shuffling and finally her irritated mutter.

"This had better be worth it."

Afelle smiled.

* * *

"Do you want to play a game?"

"No."

"It's called _I-think-there's-something-wrong-with-the-ceiling-and-you-should-really-look-up_."

Nazir sighed loudly and turned away. He was now coming to the conclusion that he was simply not cut out for field work. Nazir thought longingly of his desk back at the Dawnstar Sanctuary. Now that was real work: planning, strategy, scheme-hatching. There, Nazir flourished. But the actual grunt work he saw as nothing more than a chore. They all had their ways of looking at their work. To Babette, it was a game. The new blood back at Dawnstar would consider something like this a privilege. And the Listener . . . well, Nazir didn't really want to know what that man saw it as.

His musings were cut short by the sharp _twang_ of a bowstring. There was a lightning fast blur as Babette faulted over the balcony and caught the arrow mid-flight. She landed lightly beside him. Admittedly, she wasn't completely worthless.

"And there goes your element of surprise," Nazir called out. "This will all go smoother if you show yourselves."

Slowly, two shapes detached themselves from the shadows and stepped forward. A man and a woman, obviously Companions by their garb. Nazir's eyes narrowed.

"Well, well, well. If the _unbeatable_ Dragonborn hasn't deigned to make an appearance."

"What do you want, assassin?"

Nazir snorted. While it was interesting the esteemed hero had recognized them, Nazir found fools to be intolerable. People acting like fools were worse.

"Don't play games with us, Dragonborn. You have ten seconds to tell us where she is. Ten." The two Companions exchanged surprised looks.

"Nine."

The female Companion grabbed the Dragonborn's shoulder and muttered something in his ear.

"Eight." Nazir said pointedly. The Dragonborn brushed his Companion's hand off and stepped forward.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!"

Now that was just infuriating. Nazir drew his scimitar, light bouncing off the razor-sharp edge. In the next instant the two Companions' weapons were up. Nazir approached slowly, blade dancing slowly back and forth. The Dragonborn drew back his bow, the arrow aimed directly at Nazir's head.

"Drop your weapons, assassins." Out of the corner of his eye, Nazir saw Babette making quite a show of trying to pull her fangs out.

"You think you can escape," Nazir breathed, still moving forward despite the imminent death staring him down. "The Listener will hunt you to the ends of the earth for this injustice." Babette advanced on his other side, twirling the arrow she had caught. Together the assassins advanced, and the Companions slowly gave ground, inching back the way they'd come.

Nazir lunged. He'd angled himself to one side, and the Dragonborn's arrow sailed harmlessly past him. The next instant the Redguard had cut the bow from whence it came in half. He allowed himself a small smile.

Then a pommel slammed into the back of his head. He staggered, lights exploding behind his eyes. Regaining his composure Nazir sprang away, his scimitar swinging in a wide arc. He felt a visceral pleasure as it collided with the female Companion's shield, the impact sending a savage shock up his arm. She disengaged and began circling him, a new wariness in her eyes. Nazir was vaguely aware that the Dragonborn and Babette were grappling with their bare hands. He shifted his attention back to his opponent.

She was good, but she was all attack and no defense. With the speed of a skilled assassin, Nazir danced around her, weaving a web with which to catch her. He made small attacks, nothing to seriously wound her, but scratches that made her even more reckless. Slowly, her swings became wilder, exhaustion setting in. Nazir danced on; he could feel her weakening.

Unfortunately, she must have felt it too, because nothing else would've prompted such a reckless maneuver. Honorable assassin that he was, Nazir would never have even considered throwing his shield. Additionally, such an attack lacked any semblance of elegance or finesse. So it happened that Nazir was completely defenseless.

The heavy shield smashed into his face, and Nazir felt something crack as his head snapped backwards. In an instant the Companion had barreled straight into him and sent him crashing to the ground. His scimitar had slipped from his grasp and was gone. The Companion raised her blade, and Nazir could see determination in her eyes.

Nazir was just wondering if an honorable assassin had a stone's throw chance of entering Sovngarde, when a vampire fell from the ceiling and pinned the Companion to the ground. It took several moments for Nazir's mind to comprehend this, even as the vampire bared its fangs at him. Slowly, the assassin's eyes were drawn upward. Hanging bat-like from the cavern's many stalactites were a dozen vampires, all grinning the same sick grin.

"Babette, it's time to go!" Nazir yelled, but a moment later the creatures came falling down like black rain.


	3. Fire and Fangs

Even as vampires continued to plummet down from on high, Afelle reflected on how odd this situation was. One moment a vampiric child-assassin had been clawing at his eyes, and the next he was back-to-back with the very same assassin, as a ring of bloodsucking fiends slowly closed around them.

"Funny how things turn out," the assassin said, as if she were reading his thoughts. "Not, of course, that this changes anything really. We're still going to kill you, only after we take care of these . . . much more worthy opponents. No offense."

Afelle doubted that, but he grunted "None taken," if only to annoy her. It occurred to him that this might be an ideal time to deprive the Dark Brotherhood of one of its assassins, right when she wasn't expecting it. But, truth be told, he had no stomach for killing a child, even if she was a vampire and an assassin. And she might be useful in distracting some of the vampires. After all, it did appear that the slowly approaching creatures were more wary of her than Afelle.

"How many do think can you take?" he whispered to the little assassin at his back.

"I _think_ I can take three, but in reality the number is probably closer to ten."

"Humility doesn't become you," Afelle snorted sarcastically, "on three, then?"

But he had barely finished saying the words when he heard the assassin lunge away from him, followed by shrieks of pain and the unnatural sound of fangs ripping through flesh.

Afelle had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, which would've been a fatal mistake, as a vampire suddenly broke from the ring and raced towards him, fangs bared. The creatures were preternaturally fast and so, in a split-second decision, Afelle opted for an unexpected move. He hurled himself on the ground and the vampire's momentum sent it crashing over the Harbinger's prone form. Lifting himself onto his knees, Afelle flicked his dagger into a reverse grip and stabbed backwards. He felt the weapon sink through cloth, flesh, and then strike bone. Jumping to his feet and spinning around, Afelle caught the creature as it fell and then plunged his blade twice into the vampire's back.

Afelle dropped the body and slashed viciously at a second vampire that had been creeping up behind him. The vampire lurched backwards, clutching its bleeding fingers. Afelle prepared for another strike but then the assassin child, hurling herself from Talos knew where, landed on the vampire's back. It arched its back in surprise and twisted madly in a circle, trying to throw her off. But she dug her fingers even deeper into its shoulders, and then tore at the vampire's throat with her fangs.

Afelle turned away and spotted a vampire skulking at the edge of the cavern. He raised his dagger and charged towards the creature. There was a brief flicker of surprise in the vampire's red eyes and Afelle thought he had him, but at the last moment the vampire dodged out of the way. The Harbinger's steel blade cut empty air and he suddenly found himself seized from behind. He could feel the vampire readying himself for the bite, and Afelle twisted wildly, kicking upward with all his might. His boot slammed into his enemy's abdomen and then he was free. Whirling around Afelle raised his arm defensively. The vampire had lunged forward and his fangs latched onto Afelle's steel-clad forearm. To the Harbinger's surprise the beast didn't recoil, but sank his teeth even further into the cold metal. To his even greater shock, Afelle felt his armor slowly giving way before the seemingly relentless fangs. The vampire's eyes flicked up and locked on to his, and Afelle saw nothing but utter hatred. He jerked his arm back towards his chest, dragging his enemy along with it. His dagger flashed in the dim light, the fangs relinquished their hold, and the vampire's body thudded to the ground.

Afelle stepped back, breathing heavily. Babette was still creating carnage, and the other Dark Brotherhood assassin was backed up against an icy wall at the other end of the cavern, attempting to fend off three vampires at once. Afelle wasn't sure which side he would rather see triumph.

A more distressing matter was that he could see no sign of Ria. A sudden pang shot through the Harbinger at the thought that she might've died because of these foul creatures, but then he spied her atop the balcony at the far side of the room. Her sword was bloodied and her shield gone, but it looked like, for now, she'd eluded the vampires.

He caught Ria's eye, and she motioned behind her. Afelle could just make out a small, dark crevice. A way out. And between it and him was a cavern of vampires and assassins locked in mortal combat. He was tempted to fight his way through, but erred on the side of caution. _You go, _he motioned to Ria. _I'll find another way_. She didn't look happy about that, but he didn't give her, or himself, a chance to think it through. Afelle bent low in a crouch and ran back the way he'd come, praying to the Divines both his and Ria's departure would go unnoticed.

* * *

Unfortunately, Afelle spent so much of his escape looking backwards that he forgot to look forward. Soon, he realized that he was hopelessly lost in the bowels of Bloodlet Throne. He slowed to a stop and tried to recapture his bearings. There was very little light down around, but from what he could make out he was in yet another passage. Most of it was stone, but a good portion was covered in half-melted ice. Now that he was no longer fighting for his life, Afelle registered that it was actually very cold. He wondered if the sun had risen outside and, if so, the outdoors would be fractionally less frigid then here. He wished he hadn't given his only torch to Ria.

As if the universe had read the Dragonborn's mind and responded accordingly, a flame leapt into existence from the shadows beside him. Afelle instinctively turned towards the source, dagger at the ready. Yet another vampire, strangely bearing a torch, emerged from the darkness, mouth forming that fang-filled grin.

Afelle had fought vampires with preternatural speed, but this one moved faster than anything he had ever seen. The creature dodged his lunge, seized his wrist, and savagely thrust Afelle's hand into the flame of his torch.

Afelle cried out in shock and pain as his hand burned, the dagger slipping from his grasp. An instant and an eternity flashed by and then Afelle tore his hand free. The vampire's foot connected with his chest and Afelle crashed onto the stone-cold floor. But the pain paled in comparison to the agony consuming his hand. Eyes still stinging from the smoke of the torch, Afelle plunged his blistering hand into the slush of nearby melted ice. Mercifully, it cooled.

The vampire was still approaching, and Afelle dimly thought that if his smile got any wider his face would split in half. Rage coursed through the Dragonborn at the sight, and he drew breath, preparing to shout this creature into a thousand pieces. But the vampire swooped down upon him and clamped his free hand over Afelle's mouth, and threatening him with the torch.

"Don't struggle _Dragonborn_, or Sordred will slip, and burn your head clean off." The vampire's voice was high and silkily smooth. "We need to have a talk, before the Piper begins his merry song." He giggled.

Afelle didn't answer. Not that he could if he wanted to. His burned hand was still cooling in the snow, but he cured it into fist, preparing to hurl the slush into the vampire's face.

Sordred, if that was his real name, calmed himself down although he was still grinning insanely. His next words didn't help convince Afelle that this creature was not touched in the head, either.

"_The iron will melt, and then it will fall_

_ Into the fire that consumes us all_

_ The Piper will play-"_

The vampire's singing was abruptly cut off as Afelle flung the snow into his face. Sordred jerked backward, his grip on Afelle loosening. The Harbinger lashed out with his foot and the vampire staggered back. Afelle felt the power welling up inside of him. The power of the Voice.

"**Fus Ro Dah**!"

Sordred was blasted off his feet and slammed into the wall behind. His torch had been torn from his fingers and lay on the cold-stone, but miraculously still burned. Afelle got to his feet and picked it up. Sordred was dazedly climbing to his feet. Afelle turned his gaze back to the torch which he studied for a moment. A savage fury suddenly shot through the Harbinger and he hurled the flaming wood with all his strength. It cart wheeled in a blazing circle towards Sordred, and in the instant before it hit him the vampire let out a shriek of pure fear. The flames caught on to the vampire like he was drenched in oil, and Sordred flailed about, casting twisted shadows across the ice. Afelle didn't stay around to see what happened next but turned and sprinted into the darkness.

Fortunately Ria was waiting for him when he finally found his way back out. She looked rather startled when Afelle came bursting through the door, weaponless and out of breath. Afelle assured her that, aside from his burned hand, he was unwounded. Ria lent him her dagger, since he had lost his to Sordred and the Brotherhood assassin had destroyed his bow. After taking a moment to catch their breaths, they decided to make all haste for Riverwood, and from there on to Whiterun.

* * *

Hours later, while the Harbinger and his Companion ate, drink, and listened to the songs of minstrels, two assassins warmed themselves by their own meager fire, far from any civilization. The only sound came from Nazir, as he drew a whetstone repeatedly across his scimitar, which had sustained several notches from the encounter with the vampires. All of the creatures had been destroyed save two, who had fled when they realized they no longer had the advantages in numbers. And of course the Dragonborn and his Companion, cowards that they were, had run away long before. Babette was gazing into the flames, uncharacteristically silent. And so the vampire and the Redguard had sat, for hours on end. Eventually, as Nazir suspected, it was Babette who broke the silence.

"How do we know it was the Companions that took the Night Mother?"

Nazir exhaled slowly, but not from any feeling of annoyance, but rather of weariness. He put his scimitar down and slipped the whetstone back into a pouch.

"_We_ don't. But the Listener does."

Babette stared at him expressionlessly. Nazir was again struck at how old, and yet how young, her eyes were. He wondered what this Un-child thought about when she was alone.

"And when we tell the Listener that we failed, we both know what's going to happen, don't we?" Babette's voice was hushed, nearly a whisper. Nazir tilted his head and considered her question, not answering immediately. For a while he watched the wood burn. Then he nodded.

"We're going to war."


End file.
